


Room 124

by stone_in_focus



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 20:33:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stone_in_focus/pseuds/stone_in_focus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hotshot lawyer and a bar owner stumble upon common ground in dealing with past demons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A small man in big clothes. 

That was how Kaidan Alenko had remembered the guy the first time he passed through the front doors of LT’s, the hole in the wall on the corner of 7th and Dowling that Kaidan had acquired a few years ago on an entrepreneurial whim. The newcomer—all sopping wet as he shook dry an umbrella that obviously hadn’t served much of a purpose—had stumbled into the bar the same way the storm had rolled over the city that evening: a bit unexpected and more than a little temperamental.

Kaidan finished wiping down the glass in his hand as he watched him sidle up to the counter, throwing him a nod. “What’ll it be?”

It wasn’t that his jacket was a size too large in the arms or that his pants were a few inches too long in the legs. As he shed his trench coat, gold Rolex slipping down his wrist as he riffled a hand through his mussed up hair, Kaidan wagered he had spent a pretty penny on tailoring his suit to exact measurements.

No, there was something else about him that didn’t quite…fit. Some of the regulars picked up on it, too, pulling close their half-nursed drinks and toning down their chatter. Kaidan almost found it amusing, grunting under his breath when the gossipmongers started up. 

_“Who’s Alenko talking to?”_

_“Something don’t seem right about that boy.”_

True, he looked like someone who’d be more comfortable rubbing elbows and waxing political and philosophical bullshit over at the ritzy club down the street. And Kaidan knew that a guy like him—a fish used to a much bigger pond than the local watering grounds—was usually the type to stiff on the tip, too. But business was business, and Kaidan wasn’t about to turn down customers just because they made him feel a little funny in the gut.

“Jameson, on the rocks.” The younger man tapped the edge of his credit card on the countertop. “And keep ’em coming.”

His voice didn’t match, either; one that sounded rough against the chords and too deep in the throat for someone with such a green face. Almost a kid, really—had to be in his early twenties at most.

“Got an ID?”

“You don’t know who I am?” He arched an eyebrow, huffing a sigh as he slapped his keys down on the bar and retrieved his wallet. “Sure, whatever. Figures you wouldn’t.”

 _Sorry, not ringing any bells, buddy,_  Kaidan wanted to say, but refrained from acknowledging the remark as he eyeballed the license. John Shepard, blue-eyed and five-foot-ten. Just had a birthday last month, which made him twenty-nine years old. Huh. Kaidan supposed that tempted a person enough to roll his eyes every time he got carded. Then again, as someone who was already graying at the temples at thirty-three, neither would Kaidan be one to complain. “Shepard…like that law firm over on Lexington?”

“What finally gave it away?” He plucked a cigarette from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, talking out of the corner of his mouth as he flicked the lighter. “Don’t tell me it was my charming demeanor.”

You didn’t get to be a bartender without picking up on sarcasm and all its colorful variants. Judging by the bitter undertones, Kaidan sensed there was something he was not privy to. Not that he cared to find out what it was.

That, or the man was flirting with him. Which, given the copious amounts of alcohol consumed in this fine establishment every night, was not all that uncommon.

Kaidan figured he was just your average jerk-off.

“I just know how to read, is all.” Kaidan nodded towards the  _NO SMOKING_  sign. Posted in big red letters, even.

The cigarette drooped from his lips. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. Right. Fine.” He pushed away from the bar, grabbing his coat and useless umbrella as he waltzed back towards the front door. “But that Jameson better be there when I get back. And don’t try to screw me over by making it all ice.”

Kaidan wondered if he had one of those motivational posters hanging up in his office.  _Perseverance: Your life is hell, so why not make it hell for others, too?_

Fortunately, the remainder of the evening progressed as any other night would, the sports commentary droning along on the flat screen overhead as the other customers returned to the usual banter, letting loose the occasional guffaw after a real knee-slapper of a joke.

And upon his return, John Shepard managed to keep his charming demeanor at bay, save for a phone conversation that made Kaidan thankful he wasn’t on the receiving end. “That wasn’t part of our original agreement. She can’t just…no, I told her–”

He slammed the phone down, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hope that bastard bills her for the hours she spends fucking him, too.”

After another swig and a clunk of an empty glass, Kaidan felt the man’s eyes drift towards him. Lingering, almost. Kaidan’s cheeks reddened as he pretended to mop up the spatter behind the counter. God, he hoped he hadn’t looked like he was eavesdropping.

“Hey. You ever marry?”

Kaidan kept his head down, but not without catching the glint of a silver wedding band. “With all due respect, sir, don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“‘All due respect,’” he scoffed, giving the ring a few restless twists around his finger. “Yeah, I know what that means.”

Kaidan didn’t respond, instead scooping up a few cubes of ice and reaching for the bottle of dwindling whiskey. “Another Jameson, Mr. Shepard?”

He didn’t get much more than a stare at first, the man glancing him over as the corner of his mouth worked its way into a crooked grin before finally accepting the drink. “Just Shepard, thanks. Mr. Shepard…now that’s my father. And I’m not my father.”

He let the tumbler dangle from his hand, head cocked to the side and finger pointed—the drunk’s universal gesture that they were about to enlighten someone whether they liked it or not. “And not John. Not Jack. Not Johnny. Fuck me, not Johnny. Hell, I’ll even answer to, ‘Hey, asshole,’ as–” 

“Shepard. Got it.”

“Quick learner.” Shepard winked as he slouched in his seat. “I like you.”

Kaidan wasn’t sure to how to express his joy.

Near closing time, when heads started to bob, livers swimming in alcohol, Shepard was about one drink short of capsizing. “Mmm,” he breathed into his jacket sleeve. “I should go.”

Shepard staggered off the bar stool, but Kaidan pulled him back. “No…” his squeeze tightened, “…you really shouldn’t.”

“What? You gonna drive me home?”

And there was that crooked grin again. Twisted lips. Loose corners that didn’t match. Eyes like an anchor despite the liquor weighing him down, steadier than the wavering grip Kaidan had on Shepard’s wrist.

“I…” Kaidan stepped back. “Got a cab waiting for you outside. I think it’s best that you get in and go on home.”

Shepard snorted. “Do you?”

“If you parked out on the street, just remember to come back in the morning and get your car by six, or it’ll be towed.”

Shepard passed a palm over the back of his neck. “All right,” he said. “We’ll play it your way.” He popped the collar on his trench coat and headed out, only swiveling back to leave a tip as an afterthought. A couple of dollar bills, a gum wrapper, and a button.

Kaidan squinted. What an oddball.

He flagged down one of the other patrons exiting the bar. “Make sure he actually takes that cab, will you?”

Kaidan knew this was the part where one would assume he’d never see a person again. Chance meetings were just that. Chance. Coincidence. Two lights flickering only to burn out again.

Thing was, that funny feeling in the gut had a way of coming back to haunt you.

As he locked up for the night, Kaidan couldn’t decide if he’d mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Almost two weeks later, Shepard came back.

Kaidan hadn’t given him much of a second thought after he had sauntered out of LT’s the first time, full up on liquor and one pants pocket emptied of what the guy had deemed as an appropriate tip. It had been nothing more than just another business transaction, cashing in to pay out bills. A means of enjoying life’s modest pleasures, like soaking under a hot shower; rubbing a hand down a clean-shaven face. Smelling the fresh fruit at the farmers’ market and breaking in the leather of a pair of new shoes. Building up a sweat on the weight machines at the local gym; winding down with a cold beer and a few friends around the poker table.

It was a simple routine—an honest night’s work to live another honest day—but it was one Kaidan had found comfort in. Sometimes, structure and order were the only differences between a clear head and a rattled brain.

However, even the best laid plans couldn’t account for every wrinkle or loose thread. Or the half a pack of cigarettes that dropped out of a fleece vest while Kaidan sorted the lights from darks that morning.

Shepard’s brand. He’d left them behind, and Kaidan, momentarily, had thought about using them as an excuse to track him down. Then thought he’d be better off throwing them away. He hadn’t remembered putting them in his pocket until now. Hadn’t remembered Shepard until now.

But later at the bar that night, there he was, loosening his tie as he sported the same gold Rolex and tailored suit.

Shepard had an uncanny sense of timing.

Kaidan watched him settle in before approaching. “Jameson?”

Shepard didn’t object as Kaidan offered the first drink, idly swirling the amber liquid in its glass before lifting it to his mouth. “Left that much of an impression, huh?”

“Hard to forget the charming demeanor,” Kaidan said.

Shepard laughed, more like a snort. Didn’t have much to say to that as he handed over his credit card to start up the tab, swirling his keychain around his finger. Kaidan recognized the GM imprint while he poured another beer for one of the other patrons. “Nice car you have. That a…what? ‘67 Camaro?”

Shepard pressed his lips together after taking another sip, slicking his tongue over them as he glanced up. “‘69.”

Kaidan almost didn’t catch himself before the head spilled over. “That, uh…that so?” He coughed into his sleeve. Less to prevent a health code violation. More to avert his eyes from the fingers fumbling to unbutton a stiff collar. Fourth digit minus the wedding ring.

Yeah. Uncanny timing, all right.

“I, uh…” he cleared his throat, “I knew someone who had a car like that.”

“Yeah? He had good taste, then.” Shepard smoothed out his napkin with the bottom of his glass, a half-smile etching into his cheek. “Guessing he had good taste about a lot of things.”

“I, um…saw it get towed. Warned you about being back by six.”

The half-smile disappeared down into his drink. “You always in the habit of lecturing people?”

“No, I…sorry.” Kaidan pawed at the back of his neck. “Just really bad at small talk.”

“Small talk…that what this is?”

Whatever it was, Shepard was good at it, and Kaidan wasn’t.

The bar stool creaked as Shepard stepped off, scuffing his shoes against the floor as he meandered over to the corkboard on the wall. Lips pursed and eyes squinted, he studied the collage of photographs next to the specials, skimming faces he didn’t know and moments for which he didn’t have the context. Awfully quiet for someone who’d never understand how the pieces fit together.

He raised his tumbler, taking his sweet time as he savored another sip of whiskey. “You’re not in any of the pictures,” he finally said.

Kaidan wondered if Shepard’s fancy law school taught him that—how to pick up certain clues and trick someone into thinking he was actually giving a damn. “I guess. Why does it matter?”

“This your bar, right? Make sense if you were in a few of them.”

“I prefer to be the one behind the camera.”

“Huh. You’re not too bad, then,” Shepard said, though Kaidan didn’t remember asking him for his opinion. “I almost wanted to be a model once.”

That must’ve been where the deep perceptions ended.  _Sure you did, kid. And I wanted to be an astronaut._

“People keep saying I look like…what’s-his-face…” Shepard snapped his fingers. “Starts with a V…he’s the guy you see in malls and bus stops and shit.”

Kaidan figured he’d just have to take Shepard’s word for it. “Sounds like it would’ve been a real dream job.”

“Yeah. What do any of us really know about dreams?” Shepard sighed as he eased back up to the bar. Might’ve even sounded wistful if Kaidan believed hard enough. “Married and divorced before thirty, a daughter you’ll never see if her mom can help it, working eighteen-hour days just to impress a father who doesn’t give a fuck. Don’t think anyone really knows what they want.” The ice rattled as he shook his empty glass. “Just know what we don’t want.”

Huh. Kaidan didn’t know what to say to that. Not that he ever knew the right words when a customer needed to take a load off after a long day. Most folks were just looking for a nice cold beer and someone to listen.

But something had struck a chord about what Shepard said. Maybe it was just the low lighting giving off a sort of warm haze about him, but he had a way of making you feel like he was talking right at you, like no one else was in the room. And suddenly, those words that sunk too deep in the throat for such a green face had funny way of making sense of things. Almost as funny as that feeling in Kaidan’s gut when Shepard looked at him. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What do you want?”

Kaidan was used to hearing the question as more of an expletive, something an inebriated customer would spit out if he thought Kaidan was staring at him cross-eyed. He shook his head, a wry grin tugging at his lips as he fetched a clean towel. “No one ever asks the bartender for their story.”

Shepard didn’t miss a beat. Kaidan’s heart did. “They are now.”


End file.
